


Naughty Short Fic Collection

by ros3bud009



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Fantasizing, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, light humiliation kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-05 00:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17314847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ros3bud009/pseuds/ros3bud009
Summary: A collection of smutty short fic/drabbles that are too short to get their own works.1. Whirl with established Whirl/Cyclonus/Tailgate/Swerve, Masturbation and Fantasizing2. Rodimus/Thunderclash, Aft Play





	1. Whirl, Masturbation/Fantasizing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Whirl figuring out how to make himself 'happy' thinking of his three boyfriends"
> 
> So like. Cyclonus and Swerve and Tailgate aren't there, but like. They are in spirit.

The bad part about getting himself thrown in the brig for the night was that Whirl wouldn’t get to burn off his overcharge with his beautiful idiot beaus.

The _worst_ part was that there wasn’t any comm service in the brig, so he couldn’t even sext them to help him burn it off himself.

But what Ultra Magnus didn’t know was that there was still a silver lining.

Whirl had millennia worth of experience finding ways to get off, claws be damned, and imagination to match it.

“Fraaaag, come on, don’t tease,” Whirl whined to the empty cell as he ground his valve down on the corner edge of the berth, optic offlined so he could pretend it was Cyclonus’s codpiece, stubbornly shut, _teasing_ him, that fragging _tease_. It didn’t help that his claws were clasped behind his back – _held_ there by Swerve, that traitor, held there while he left the lightest brush of kisses along his backstrut – so he was caught between chasing his pleasure and keeping his balance with his legs alone.

And Tailgate would be sitting pretty at the end of the berth, little servo wrapped around his chubby little spike, visor bright with amusement because he knew Whirl loved this.

Whirl could _feel_ that gaze on him as he begged Tailgate to let him have Cyclonus’s spike, or Swerve’s, or Tailgate’s, _anything_.

And Whirl knew the exact cadence with which Tailgate would hum before stating simply, “Not yet.”

Whirl shuddered and whimpered as he overloaded.

Ultra Magnus was _so_ going to be pissed in the morning, and that only egged Whirl into starting to move his hips again.


	2. Rodimus/Thunderclash, Aft Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt "that thing with Roddy and Thunderclash's aft port" which refers to a tweet I made about how I just really want Rodimus to have a lapful of Thunderclash's aft to play with. So. Here we are, haha.
> 
> I personally consider this to be in line with my Juxtapositional Affection AU, but honestly you don't need that for context. Just know that they're an established couple.

“Would you look at that,” Rodimus purred with self-satisfaction as he eased his digits inside Thunderclash again, the tight rim of protoform already relenting to the added intrusion of his second digit. “Who knew you would be such a natural at taking it up the aft.”

Thunderclash shuddered where he laid facedown. His huge servos were grasping and kneading at the berth while his broad back arched to subtly push back against Rodimus’s ministrations.

It had been a stroke of genius to position Thunderclash like this, head down and hips up with Rodimus tucked between his spread thighs, sitting comfortably with a lapful of his lover’s aft to play with. Rodimus gently dragged his thumb along the flexible mesh surrounding where he was knuckle deep in Thunderclash’s port, admiring the arrhythmic clenching of the tight hole around has digits as they were was all but clung to with each slow pull out.

Even with his face buried in the sheets, Thunderclash couldn’t hide how each _slooow_ push back in dragged a low groan from his vocalizer.

Nonetheless, Rodimus asked, “You still doing alright, babe?”

“Fine,” Thunderclash managed with a shaky ex-vent, his deep voice rough with pleasure.

“Just fine?” When Thunderclash was slow to elaborate, Rodimus carefully removed his digits to instead massage the protoform around Thunderclash’s port. “Thunders?”

“I’m fine,” Thunderclash repeated, a little clearer now as he turned his helm to one side to peer back at Rodimus as best he could. His optics were bright with charge, albeit slow to focus. Still Rodimus waited, watching as Thunderclash’s intake worked around the words jumbled up in the haze of his charge. “I--I hadn’t expected to find so much pleasure in this.”

“You mean from having me knuckle deep in your port?”

Thunderclash’s optics flared and Rodimus felt his lover’s heavy spike twitch where it was trapped against Rodimus’s lap.

Rodimus was pretty sure that no matter how much time passed, he would never stop being amazed by how Thunderclash – _poised_ and _proper_ and _powerful_ Thunderclash—so eagerly gave himself over to Rodimus in frame and spark, all because he actually _liked_ the way Rodimus was.

Loved the way he was, really.

Later, Rodimus would curl up against Thunderclash’s wide chest and inside the safe cradle of his arms and babble some sappy slag, as he was always prone to do when he felt so humbled by Thunderclash’s affection and all that he offered up to Rodimus without a flicker of doubt.

But for now--

“Like, bad embarrassed? Or kinky embarrassed?” Rodimus couldn’t keep himself from grinning wide when the question startled a low laugh from Thunderclash.

“Some of both if I’m being truthful, but mostly the latter,” Thunderclash admitted.

“Good,” Rodimus purred as he shifted his digits tips back to the small port and pushed. What sense Thunderclash had managed to gather melted away, optics nearly flickering offline when Rodimus bottomed out, knuckles rubbing against the stretched rim. “But no more hiding in the bed. I want to see your pretty face when you overload from your aft.”

Thunderclash could only nod since his vocalizer was occupied with a rumbling moan that was music to Rodimus’s audials.


End file.
